


With Your Lips On My Neck

by hufflepuffkaspbrak



Series: Things You Said [5]
Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Confessions, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mutual Pining, Unrequited Love, but they think its
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-30 15:12:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13954284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hufflepuffkaspbrak/pseuds/hufflepuffkaspbrak
Summary: Friends with benefits always comes along with feelings.





	With Your Lips On My Neck

"Richie…Richie…" Stan threw his head back, it landing firmly on the pillow. His hands flew up to thread into Richie's curls, messy and dark and wild in comparison to his own light, neat curls.

One of Richie's hands was firmly on his hipbone, resting right underneath his shirt, and the other was firmly gripping Stan's ass over his jeans. He was resting in between Stan's legs, his face buried in his neck, his lips and teeth working over spots over and over again, leaving marks.

"Richie…" Stan groaned out again when Richie bit down on a particularly sensitive spot near his collarbone. He reached down to tug on his shirt, trying to tell the other boy he wanted it off. Richie got the message, leaning up slightly to pull off his own shirt quickly before reaching under Stan's, yanking it off. He immediately pressed their chests together, Stan letting out a soft sigh at the heat of the skin to skin contact. Their mouths found each other and moved quickly.

They always seem to end up like this on Saturday nights, so late into the night that they seemed to be the only two people awake in the city. One of them always called the other, desperate and begging, and the other always came over within minutes, no questions asked. Stan could remember the first time it happened, a drunken night when the friends fell in bed together and hadn't looked back since. That's all it was now. Friends falling into bed together, just getting each other off.

Richie's lips were off his now, kissing his face softly and working down to his jaw and back onto his neck. Stan couldn't see, but he was sure that the marks were already darkening and now the other boy was leaving even more. Not that Stan could complain, he found a sick satisfaction in looking at them the next morning, the only thing telling him that the night before wasn't a dream. One like the pathetic teenage wet dreams he used to have when he first started looking at Richie as more than a friend.

Richie bit down on his neck particularly hard, making Stan mewl and grip Richie's arm hard, leaving little nail marks. He felt Richie chuckle against his neck and Stan's face turned red, both with arousal and slight embarrassment as the fact that Richie practically controlled him when they were like this.

Stan felt a hand slowly reaching down, softly dancing across his skin, drawing shapes in his stomach before landing just inside his jeans. Not reaching any further, just sitting at the spot where the band of his underwear met his skin. His body reacted instantly, twitching upwards, their hips colliding together.

Richie let out an unceremonious groan. "Be patient, Stanley."

"You've mutilated my neck enough, do something." Stan whispered harshly, no real heat behind the words.

"Oh, _baby_ , I know how much you love me marking you up though." Richie leaned up, so his breath was tickling Stan's ear. Stan let out a whimper. "You love me taking my time with you."

"Richard Tozier, I will kill you if you keep teasing me." Stan reaches down to Richie's pants, quickly unbuckling the belt and trying to push the jeans off of him.

A frenzy of clothes followed. Stan knew as much as Richie loved teasing him, he was just as eager as Stan was to get on with it, finally touching each other in the places they so desperately wanted to. Swear words, moans muffled by the biting of shoulders, scratches down Richie's back, soft whispers of " _please, please_ ", and sweat mingling together were over too quickly for Stan. Now was his least favorite part.

They lay next to each other, cleaned up and naked besides their boxers, their bodies pressed against each other under the covers. Richie kissed up and down his shoulders, soft, so soft he could hardly feel the press of the lips. It was loving, it was peaceful, and it was almost too much for Stan to handle. He could handle the whole _friends with benefits_ situation or whatever the hell they were. But after, when he could easily imagine them being a couple, being like this forever, it choked Stan up a bit.

It was when Richie kissed every so softly on one of the growing bruises on Stan's neck that he cracked.

"I love you." Stan blurted out and felt Richie freeze in his tracks. "Oh, _no_ , um, forget I said that." Stan sat up quickly in the bed, looking around the room desperately for his clothes.

"Stan-" Richie breathed out.

"Please, don't say anything." Stan muttered, he could feel tears prickling in his eyes. He pulled on his pants.

"But I-"

"Richie!" Stan yelled out, his voice cracking half way between the name. " _Please_." He didn't bother putting his shirt on and he walked towards the door. He had opened the door when Richie slammed it hard, preventing him from leaving.

"Let me talk." Richie spoke in a soothing manor, contrasting softly against Stan's sad and cracking voice. "How long?"

"Do I have to say?" Stan looked down at his feet.

"I would like that."

"Sophomore year, junior, maybe? I don't know. I was 16." He spoke quickly, trying to get out of the room quickly so he could fall apart in private.

"I was 17."

"What?" Stan looked up, finally seeing Richie's face, that had a huge grin plastered on it.

"I was 17 when I realized I was in love with you, Stan."

Stan's stomach dropped. "What?" He repeated.

"I was 17 and we were at the quarry and you made some snarky remark to Bev and then instantly turned around and babbled about some fucking bird you saw and I…I just loved you." Richie took a step forward and reached a hand out tentatively, cupping Stan's cheek.

"But…" Stan's brain wasn't wrapping around the situation.

"Don't overthink it." Their faces were mere centimeters apart. They'd been this close before, but it was always in the heat of the moment, when hormones were flying high and arousal clouded their brains. Never when they were so conscious of each other's warm breaths mingling.

Their lips met, not for the first time, not by far, but in a way that was different than every other time and Stan thought, _maybe he wouldn't have to imagine anymore_.


End file.
